


you got a hold on me

by pllsetskyonice (hma1313)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Yuri Plisetsky, Clubbing, Drinking, Drunk Sex, Halloween, House Party, M/M, Music Student Otabek, Otayuri Mini-Bang 2019, References to Drugs, Top Otabek Altin, art student yuri, for like 0.2 seconds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-22 13:02:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21302513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hma1313/pseuds/pllsetskyonice
Summary: Yuri’s head is splitting. He wakes up slowly, turning over and reaching to grab his phone from the bedside table, where it hopefully ended up last night. Except his hand doesn’t land on his bedside table or his phone.It lands on a person.Wherein Yuri and Otabek sleep together after a night out, Chris meddles, and there are entirely too many tequila shots.
Relationships: Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
Comments: 6
Kudos: 111
Collections: Otayuri Mini-Bang 2019





	you got a hold on me

**Author's Note:**

> It's finally here! There were several moments when I thought I'd never get this finished, many hours spent staring at a blinking cursor in a google doc, but it's been such an amazing experience to be involved in this year's Otayuri Mini Bang.
> 
> Art for this was done by the incredibly talented Ayden, SoSkepticalFox! You can find the art [here](https://twitter.com/SoSkepticalFox/status/1191698191823056897)
> 
> Title taken from [Nobody But You by WildOnes and David Julien](https://open.spotify.com/track/4Y0bH0qPY7SgiRLE0Dvg4X?si=lLc8Ztp3QXuctsMyqJTjsg), which is also in the [fic playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/38ahMUg2kVAwLrTjF7W9Al?si=rWduIZvAQSunSKGsK9D0PQ)
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!

Yuri fumbles in his bag for his keys. Rain runs down the creases in his jacket and splatters onto his notes, the ink starting to splodge on the once pristine page.

“For fuck’s sakes,” Yuri mumbles, shifting through the receipts and crumpled crisps packets littering the bottom of his bag. Yuri’s hair is now plastered to his face from the rain. He pushes it off his face and pulls at the zip on his bag before banging on the door with his fist.

JJ opens the door. When he sees Yuri, there’s a smirk on his lips and he starts to open his mouth to say something before Yuri cuts him off.

“Fuck off, JJ,” Yuri snaps. He walks through to the kitchen, unzips his bag again and upends its contents onto the kitchen table. Notebooks and sketchbooks are covered in loose pens and paintbrushes, a travel watercolour set sits at the edge of the pile. Finally, a bunch of keys held together by a keyring sporting an ice skate motif fall out, and Yuri snatches them up from the pile.

Then he walks over to the side and picks up his bottle of vodka, pouring a generous measure into a glass.

“Bad day?”

Yuri looks across from where he’s pulling a bottle of sprite out of the fridge to see Otabek entering the kitchen. He’s wearing a pair of tight fitting jeans and a soft looking navy knit sweater pushed up to the elbows. He looks a lot better than the drowned rat that Yuri is going for, no doubt completed by smudged eyeliner and running mascara.

“Something like that,” Yuri replies. “I’ve been in uni all day with Yakov demanding more of me for this project, it’s pissing it down outside and I couldn’t find my keys so JJ had to let me in. So yeah, it’s been a day.” Otabek crosses over to the oven, pulls on a pair of gloves and opens the oven door. “What you cooking?”

“Pasta bake,” Otabek replies, pulling the dish out of the oven. “You want some?”

“That’d be great,” Yuri says, taking a sip of his drink. “If you don’t mind.”

“I’ll just be eating it for the next three days if not,” Otabek laughs. “Get a plate.”

They eat making small talk about uni and everything that’s going on with their respective courses at the moment. Yuri finishes his drink and Otabek gets out a bottle of wine out. He pours some into a couple of mismatched glasses as Yuri picks their plates up and dumps them in the sink. They share the bottle of wine between them, Otabek refilling Yuri’s glass every time it becomes less than half full. Their other house mates flit in and out. Guang Hong cooks a stir fry, the kitchen filling with the various smells from a mixture of spices. Leo shoves a frozen pepperoni pizza in the oven. Seung Gil comes in and takes his laundry out of the washer. He carefully sorts through the piles of dark clothing, splitting them into what can go in the dryer and what needs to go on the clothes airer instead. When one bottle of wine gets finished, Otabek produces another. Halfway through that one, Yuri asks the question.

“Want to go out?”

“Sure,” Otabek says. “Village?”

“Where else?”

* * *

Despite it being a Thursday, the gay village is still busy enough to have a good night. People stagger between the different bars and clubs, drag queens stand around handing out free shot cards for the clubs they’re promoting. It’s even easier to have a good time if, like Otabek and Yuri, you’re already drunk before you even get there.

“I told JJ we were going out so he doesn’t bolt the door,” Otabek says as the walk along the cobbled street. “And I know you only ever take your spare key on nights out, but I’ve got mine anyway. G-A-Y?”

Yuri nods, walking towards the bouncers on the door of the club. He hands over his ID and after a brief look and down by the bouncer, they’re let in. Otabek leads the way up the stairs and over to the bar. He orders the drinks, Yuri not catching what he’s saying to the bartender over the thumping music.

Two plastic shot glasses are placed upon the sticky bar. A salt shaker appears. The bartender fills the glasses with a pale amber liquid. Slices of lime are placed on top.

“Oh no,” Yuri says. “Beka, no –”

“Yes,” Otabek says with an evil looking grin. He takes Yuri’s hand and licks a stripe across the back of it, shaking salt over the top. He does the same on his own hand. Pushes the shot glass across the bar to Yuri. “Cheers!”

Yuri licks the salt, downs the tequila with a grimace, sucking hard on the lime. Otabek passes him another drink, which Yuri eyes dubiously.

“It’s just vodka lemonade,” Otabek says. “Honest.”

They take their drinks and go over to the dancefloor. It’s kind of empty, always is on a weeknight, but Yuri’s drunk enough that it won’t really matter anyway. Music videos flash on the TV screens that cover the wall. Two girls make out in the corner. Yuri and Otabek dance for a while, then go back to the bar to get more drinks. It’s Yuri’s round, so he orders sambuca shots instead of tequila. They drink up, and then Otabek suggests moving on to another bar.

“Sure,” Yuri agrees.

They stumble down the cobbled street together. At some point they link arms, Yuri getting pulled to the side of the street when Otabek gets handed free shot cards for Kiki’s by a couple of drag queens.

“Have a good night, boys,” comes the call after them as they walk towards Kiki’s.

Kiki’s has always been one of Yuri’s favourite clubs in the gay village. It’s the first one he went to, way back in the first week of uni. For that reason alone, it holds a special place in his heart, but many a good night has been had there since.

Otabek orders tequila shots again at the bar. They appear accompanied by another two vodka lemonades and some suspicious looking blue shots that get poured when Otabek produces the free shot cards. They do the shots and take their other drinks over to the dance floor. Here, the dance floor is in the corner, split into squares that light up in time to the beat. Yuri is convinced that no night out in Kiki’s is complete without a drunken Instagram story showing the floor flashing different colours.

It’s also busier, Yuri having to hold onto Otabek’s hand so he doesn’t lose him in the crowd. Yuri stands close to Otabek, their bodies barely inches away from each other. They dance to the music, sip their drinks, and jump up and down in time to the beat. At some point, they go back to the bar and order another round. The club is even more packed now, plastic cups crunching under Yuri’s feet as they make their way back onto the dance floor.

Yuri looks up at Otabek, eyes flicking from his eyes down to his lips. Yuri feels Otabek’s hand on his waist. A remix of some top 40 track plays over the speakers. Otabek pulls him closer, and then his lips are brushing against Yuri’s own. 

Yuri wraps his arms around Otabek’s neck and kisses him back. Yuri’s half empty cup of vodka lemonade falls to the floor, forgotten. 

* * *

Yuri’s head is splitting. He wakes up slowly, turning over and reaching to grab his phone from the bedside table, where it hopefully ended up last night. Except his hand doesn’t land on his bedside table or his phone.

It lands on a person.

Yuri’s eyes shoot open. It’s Beka, he’s in Beka’s room, they’re both –

“Shit,” Yuri hisses. “Shit, shit, shit, fuck, shit!” He scrambles out of bed, grabbing his discarded clothes from where they’d ended up on the floor the night before. Jumbled memories come into his mind, memories of flashing lights and tequila shots, memories of dancing and making out in the middle of the dance floor. Memories of the frantic removal of clothes and skin against skin. His phone is still in his jeans pocket, and his spare key still in the back of his phone case. As silently as he can, he crosses the room. He opens the door, then creeps across down the hall to his own room.

Through it all, Beka sleeps on peacefully.

* * *

Otabek wakes up to someone knocking on his door.

“Coming, coming,” he says with a groan. He swings himself out of bed and pulls on a pair of tracksuit bottoms discarded on the floor.

Leo’s on the other side of the door, backpack swung over one shoulder with his phone in hand.

“What?” Otabek demands.

“We’ve got a lecture in half an hour,” Leo says. “You weren’t answering your messages, so I thought I’d just check if you’re coming or not.”

Otabek glances over to his bedside table. His phone is there, but not plugged into the charger. It sits next to a half empty glass of water, a tangled pair of earphones, a bottle of lube, and an empty condom wrapper. Otabek prays to whatever deity that may be listening that Leo doesn’t notice the latter.

“I … um, yeah, no, I don’t think I’m going to make it today,” Otabek replies. “I’ll just look at the lecture slides online or something.”

“Fair enough, don’t blame you after how late you and Yuri got in last night.”

Otabek blanches. Yuri. He remembers them making out in the middle of the dancefloor in the club, getting handsy in the Uber on the way home, the frantic removal of clothes, Yuri riding him with his head thrown back in ecstasy. Oabek could’ve sworn Yuri was still in bed when he went to sleep, but Yuri evidently isn’t there anymore. Otabek glances down the hall, and Yuri’s bedroom door is firmly shut.

“Yeah,” Otabek says as evenly as he can. “I guess it was kind of late.” 

“Well, if you’re not coming, I’d better get going,” Leo replies. “See you later!”

Leo turns and heads downstairs. Otabek closes his bedroom door and collapses back into bed.

Fucking Yuri Plisetsky.

* * *

Yuri stays in his room for most of the day. He doesn’t have anything timetabled on Fridays, and although he’d usually go to uni to make use of his studio space there, the thought of getting on a Magic Bus hungover is not one he particularly wants to entertain right now.

It’s not the worst hangover Yuri’s ever had, but it’s bad in a dull, constant ache kind of way. Not bad enough to feel like he’s close to death, but bad enough that the day is going to be a complete write off. When Yuri drags himself into the shower later in the day, he spots a line of faint hickeys on his neck. Yuri grimaces slightly as he presses the bruises, glad he’s a practiced hand with the concealer wand.

Yuri keeps checking his phone. Otabek hasn’t messaged him, but even if he had, what would Yuri want the message to say?  _ About last night, we were both really drunk, we should just forget about it and move on?  _ Or  _ About last night, I had fun, want to do it again sometime?  _ Yuri hasn’t heard from any of their other housemates either, apart from Phichit messaging around mid afternoon to check if he was, in fact, still alive. If they know about last night, they certainly aren’t letting on.

_ Like Otabek,  _ Yuri thinks. He pulls up his message thread with Otabek.  _ Last active 14:23 _ . So even though he’s been online, he hasn’t wanted to talk to Yuri.

Great.

* * *

They can’t avoid each other forever, and Saturday finds Yuri coming out of his bedroom door to go to the bathroom at the exact same Otabek does. Yuri inwardly curses at himself, because he should know how to listen to the footfalls of and the creaks of the floor by now to tell where all his housemates are in the house. He also finds himself cursing the layout of the house, because his and Otabek’s bedrooms are the only ones on the top floor. There’s no reason for anyone to come up here unless they’re putting something in the spare room, or are desperate for the bathroom when the other two on the lower floors are both occupied, or need to speak to Yuri or Otabek about something. Usually, this means that Yuri and Otabek spend most of their time unbothered by their housemates. Today, Yuri would be glad of the distraction.

“Hey,” Yuri says after a moment of silence, his voice kind of high and reminiscent of Potya’s yowling. “How are you?”

“Fine,” Otabek says shortly. He glances at the bathroom door. “Were you gonna …?”

“Well, I mean, unless you were –”

“No, you should go –”

“Beka,” Yuri says softly, “are we going to talk?”

“Wasn’t particularly planning on it,” Otabek replies. He brushes past Yuri and opens the bathroom door. “Not if I can help it, anyway.”

The lock on the bathroom door clicks shut.

_ Wanker,  _ Yuri thinks.

* * *

Slowly, their relationship regains a sense of normality. Otabek eats some of Yuri’s piroshki when Yuri totally messes up his quantities and makes too much. Otabek comes downstairs to get his laundry out the dryer to find it neatly folded on the kitchen table. He knows Yuri’s done it by the way it’s folded and the fact that no one else ever folds his laundry. Usually, it’s just placed in a heap on the table or on top of the machine, sleeves hanging off the edge and a lone sock having made a bid for freedom onto the floor.

They get the bus to uni together one morning, ending up sitting next to each other because the bus is already crazy busy when it pulls into the stop opposite Sainsbury’s. Yuri tries to ignore Otabek’s thigh pressing up against his own, staring profusely out of the window instead.

It’s an excruciating twenty minute journey.

* * *

Otabek’s birthday falls on Halloween, which is both a blessing and a curse. He loved it when he was a kid, because it meant he got presents and went trick or treating on the same day. Now, Halloween means going out and getting drunk. The clubs and bars are always so busy, entry to any of the decent ones needing to be bought weeks in advance. Halloween also falls at a strange time in the university term, where those with reading weeks aren’t in classes and therefore some have gone home.

This year, they’re throwing a Halloween/Otabek’s birthday party as a house. It seems, from what Otabek has garnered from his limited involvement in the planning process, that it’s going to be a bit of an epic. Leo is sorting the music, because “what kind of a friend would I be if I made you DJ at your own birthday?”. JJ has invited what seems like everyone they know, and then everyone their friends know too. Phichit has bought so much Instax film he could stock a shop. Yuri spends hours making decorations, painting bunting and cutting out bat shapes from black card. Guang Hong returns from town with several packs of plastic cups and shot glasses, and cute paper straws with spider webs printed on them. Seung Gil is tasked with buying alcohol for the house.

“Are we sure that’s wise?” Guang Hong asks as they’re all sat round the kitchen table carving pumpkins to go on their front steps. “The last time Seung Gil bought the alcohol he tried to make out with one of other Yuuri’s married friends.”

Seung Gil groans. “That was one time!”

“Takeshi’s  _ face _ ,” Leo laughs. “I’ll never forget it.”

“We’re never going to let you forget that, Seung Gil,” Phichit says with a grin. “In fact, I think I’ve still got the photos somewhere …”

“Stop it!” Seung Gil reaches across the table, making grabby hands at Phichit’s phone. “Aish, you lot are the worst friends.”

* * *

Halloween arrives. Otabek is banished to his room for most of the day, so everyone else can get on with decorating the house and preparing for the party. He does some uni assignments, plays around with a couple of mixes he’s working on at the moment. He keeps his door slightly ajar, and he can hear Yuri bossing everyone around downstairs.

“No, JJ, around the bannister, how is that so hard? Leo, what’s going on with all these cables? Phichit, get your hamster out of here or I will go and get Potya!”

“Isn’t your cat in Russia?”

“Did I fucking stutter?”

At one, Leo saunters upstairs with a sandwich and a packet of crisps.

“Thought you might like some lunch,” he says, putting the plate down on Otabek’s desk. “Yuri’s being kind of scary down there, I’m not going to lie.”

“So you volunteered to bring me lunch?”

“Yeah.”

Otabek looks down at the depressing looking cheese sandwich and supermarket own brand ready salted. “Do I at least get a drink to compliment this sorry state of affairs?”

“Oh shit, I knew I forgot something. Is water okay? Feel like if I open a bottle of coke or something Yuri will go spare.”

“I think I’ve got some orange juice in the fridge,” Otabek says. “If not, water’s fine.”

“Great, I’ll get that.” Leo starts walking towards the door. “Hey, I’m going to pick up later, you want anything?”

Otabek laughs. “No thanks, I’m good.”

“You sure? I’ll pay half or something. Mates rates and all that.”

“Seriously, I’m good,” Otabek says. “Thanks for the offer, though.”

* * *

Just after six, Otabek gets a message from Yuri saying Otabek should come to his room for pre drinks. Otabek quickly throws on the outfit he’s prepared for the evening and goes down the hall to Yuri’s room.

“It’s open!” Yuri yells over the deep house music that’s playing when Otabek knocks on the door. Otabek opens the door, and sees Yuri sitting cross legged on the floor in front of his full length mirror, in nothing but a pair of tight white briefs, blending foundation across his face with a sponge.

“Oh,” Otabek says. “You’re not dressed. I can come back –”

“Relax, Altin, you’ve literally had your dick in my ass.” Otabek doesn’t move. Yuri sighs. “Get a drink and sit down, fucking hell.”

One of their measuring jugs sits on Yuri’s desk, holding a suspicious looking red liquid. “What’s this?”

“Fuck knows, Chris made it. It’s strong, but still tastes good.”

“Chris is here?” Otabek asks as he pours himself a glass. He takes a tentative sip. To his surprise, it does taste good, although Otabek knows that even if one of Chris’s drinks tastes good, it’ll still get you drunk quicker than anything you’ve ever known.

“Oh yeah, he wasn’t going to miss a party. Wanted to ‘relive his student heydays’, or something. Think he’s downstairs making cocktails in the plastic storage boxes and making JJ uncomfortable by flirting with him.”

Yuri puts down the sponge and turns round to pick up his powder brush from the glass jar they’re stored in. He pauses as he catches sight of Otabek’s outfit. “That’s what you’re wearing?”

Otabek looks down at his all black ensemble. They’re his nicest pair of jeans, and his t-shirt is Hugo Boss. “…Yes?”

Yuri makes a face. “You can’t seriously be saying that’s your costume.”

“Costume of a guy who’d be wearing this anyway if his birthday didn’t fall on Halloween. What are you wearing?”

“Touché,” Yuri says. He waves a hand at the short white skirt and top with red trims hanging from the wardrobe door. A stethoscope and a pair of red heels sit on the floor underneath the dress. “And I’m going as a slutty nurse.”

“Of course you are.”

“I’ve got fishnets to go with it too.”

“Jesus  _ Christ _ .”

Yuri grins and goes back to doing his makeup. 

* * *

A major advantage of living in such a big house is it means they have the space to throw the best parties. The kitchen, living room, hallway and garden are all full of people. Everyone’s talking, laughing, taking selfies, dancing to the music. Leo is stood at the table turned makeshift DJ booth in the corner, headphones on, playing a continuous mix of EDM and Halloween classics. Chris is in the kitchen mixing more cocktails in plastic boxes that Seung Gil dubs at some point during the night the “cocktail troughs”. Phichit is capturing the entire night on his cameras, alternating between his DSLR, phone, and his Instax. The corkboard in the kitchen is steadily filling up with the mini pictures of everyone at the party. Some are in Halloween costumes of varying questionability, others are in normal going out clothes. There’s even one guy that’s turned up in one of the blow up dinosaur costumes.

Yuri’s not even sure what time it is anymore. He’s drunk far too many cups of Chris’s cocktails to care.

“Yuri, over here!” Phichit yells. He’s brandishing his Instax camera. “House photo!”

Yuri pushes his way through the crowd to where his housemates are all standing in the kitchen. Phichit hands the camera to Chris, and they all move closer together to get in shot.

“Alright, are we all ready? Seung Gil, darling, do please smile! Yuri, a bit closer to Otabek – yeah, that’s perfect. Three, two, one!” The camera flashes and starts to spit out the photo.

“Aw, that’s great, thanks Chris!” Phichit says when the photo has fully developed.

“Any time, my loves. Now birthday boy,” Chris turns to Otabek with an evil looking grin on his face, “I think it’s time for some body shots.”

Otabek visibly pales. “Chris, no –”

“Nonsense!” Chris picks up a bottle of tequila and pushes him towards the kitchen table. “Shirt off, lie down.” The table gets cleared of all bottles and cans and half drunk cups and Yuri takes his t-shirt, putting it on top of the fridge for safe keeping. “Oh wow, he works out,” Chris says with an appreciative look up and down Otabek’s toned chest and abs. “We love that. Okay, who’s first? How about …” Chris turns around, looking at the people surrounding the table. “Yuri?”

Yuri steps forward, holding a stack of shot glasses. JJ produces a drum of salt, Guang Hong holds out a small chopping board with a lime sliced into wedges. Otabek lies down on the table and Yuri clambers up, kicking off his heels and sitting so he’s got a knee either side of Otabek’s waist. Otabek freezes as he feels his dick twitch in interest at Yuri sitting on him like he is.  _ Not the time _ , he tells himself sternly.  _ Not the time not the place not the ANYTHING – _

“Okay, JJ, the salt please,” Chris says, holding out an expectant hand. JJ hands it over and Chris flicks open the shaker side, pouring the salt onto Otabek’s abs. He pours two shots into the glasses with a practiced hand, balancing them on Otabek’s chest. Finally, a wedge of lime is placed into Otabek’s waiting mouth, after an, “Open wide, darling,” from Chris.

A crowd has gathered round the table. Phichit has his camera at the ready. Yuri throws his hair over a shoulder. “Two shots, one right after the other,” Chris says. “You ready, Yuri?” Yuri nods. “Can we get a countdown, please? Five!”

“Four!”

“Three!”

“Two!”

“One!”

Yuri dips his head and licks a line of salt from Otabek’s abs, drinks a shot and then sucks on the lime. He kisses Otabek as he does so, because there’s no avoiding it, and Otabek is transported to the last time he was kissing Yuri. Yuri lifts his head and catches Otabek eyes for a moment before going back down and doing the second shot. Otabek feels his muscles jump as Yuri licks his abs, and nothing can prepare him for Yuri kissing him again, even if it is to suck lime juice out the wedge placed in his mouth.

“Incredible!” Chris says. There’s a glint in his eyes that Otabek doesn’t quite trust. “I think they should swap now, what do you think?” There’s a resounding chorus of agreement from the room, and Yuri grins as swings himself onto the kitchen table.

“Come on, Beka,” he says, pushing his top up to his armpits. “Don’t you want to do some shots?”

“Yes,” Otabek says through gritted teeth. He jumps off the table so Yuri can lie down. “Three, Chris.”

“Oh, three! He’s upping the stakes, folks. The next big question, where’s the salt going?”

Otabek picks up the salt drum and looks up and down Yuri’s body, surveying his options. He shakes a little on Yuri’s stomach, and then, after a moment of consideration, shakes some onto Yuri’s chest. Thighs also would have been an option, but Otabek also isn’t about to pull Yuri’s tights down in front of a load of people he only kind of knows, no matter how much he wants to.

Guang Hong passes fresh slices of lime to Yuri. Chris pours three generous shots into the glasses on the side of the table. Turning round to the guests, he gets them to start a countdown again.

“Five!”

“Four!”

“Three!”

“Two!”

“One!”

Otabek dips his head and licks up the first line of salt, throws back the shot, and sucks the juice from the lime where it’s placed in between Yuri’s lips. The second shot happens almost exactly the same, but on the third, something shifts. 

Maybe it’s because he’s licking the salt from Yuri’s stomach rather than his chest. Maybe it’s because the shot glass was definitely fuller than the last two and Otabek gulps it down with a grimace and a shudder. Maybe it’s because Guang Hong is late handing Yuri the slice of lime. Maybe it’s because Otabek is definitely past the point of being tipsy.

Maybe it’s all of the above.

Yuri is holding the slice of lime in his hand, about to put the slice to his lips when Otabek slams the empty shot glass down on the table and kisses him. Yuri kisses him back, slice of lime falling from his grasp. 

“And my work here is done,” Otabek could swear he hears Chris say. “Anyone else want a shot?”

Otabek breaks the kiss and slips off the table. He holds his hand out to Yuri. “You coming, then?”

Yuri shimmies off the table and takes Otabek’s hand in his own. “Yeah,” he says with a smile.

They ignore the cheers as they make their way through the crowd to the door and the stairs. Somehow, everyone knowing that there’s something going on doesn’t feel like such a big deal anymore.

* * *

Yuri wakes up with Otabek’s arms wrapped round him. He relaxes back into Otabek’s arms, snuggling down into the sheets. The house is silent, the only sound coming from the occasional birdsong or passing car outside. 

“Morning,” Otabek murmurs beside him. 

Yuri turns round to face him. “Morning,” he replies.

“You hungover?”

“Not really,” Yuri says. He’s definitely had worst. “You?”

Otabek shakes his head. “I’m alright, despite all the shots Chris made me do.”

“You agreed to them!”

“Yeah, but he was still going round brandishing the tequila bottle like a weapon.”

“That’s true,” Yuri chuckles. Silence falls for a moment. “Beka, what are we doing here?”

“Lying in bed.”

“No,” Yuri says. “What are we  _ doing  _ here?”

Otabek lets out a small sigh. “We’re enjoying each other’s company,” he replies. “I want to… take things slowly. Go on dates and stuff. I like you, Yuri. I want to do it properly. I don’t want to mess this up.”

“When?”

“When what?”

“When do the dates start?”

Otabek looks at Yuri for a moment. “Now?” he asks. “I’d offer to make you breakfast but I reckon the kitchen is a fucking tip right now. We could go out, though.”

“I like the sound of that,” Yuri says. “I know a cute place in northern quarter.”

Otabek nods. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

Once they’re both showered and dressed, they make their way downstairs. At the front door, Yuri glances down the hall to the kitchen and living room beyond, and represses a shudder. Decorations are half hanging down, empty bottles and cans litter every available surface, there’s someone just passed out on the kitchen floor. 

Yuri turns back to the front door and unlocks it. They step out of the house and slam the door behind them, carefully stepping over the pumpkins that got destroyed at some point during the night. 

There’s a chill to the air, one that feels more wintery than autumnal. Up and down the country, shops will be moving their Halloween decorations into the clearance section, and filling the seasonal aisles with Christmas trees and fairy lights, with tinsel and baubles, with glitter and rolls of wrapping paper. In parks across the city, bonfires will be being built in preparation for bonfire night celebrations in a few days’ time. 

They walk to the bus stop not chatting much, just the odd passing comment about a couple of well decorated houses. The bus stop is quiet, not many people getting on at 10am on a Friday in reading week. They show their passes to their driver and make their way upstairs to the top deck. Despite there being plenty of seats on the bus, they choose to sit together, Yuri clasping their hands together and leaning his head on Otabek’s shoulder. The bus shudders into life, pulling away from the stop and heading towards the city. It’s the first of November, it’s a new month, but most importantly, it’s a new start. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/pllsetskyonice)


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